


A Very Special Nephew

by LuckyDuck (MrTonyStank)



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, donald whump, so I decided to make my own, there's not enough donald and scrooge bonding out there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 01:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15232323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrTonyStank/pseuds/LuckyDuck
Summary: Another baddie is out to get their hands on Scrooge's fortune, but this time they try to get it in a way no one's thought of before: through his used-to-be- estranged nephew.





	A Very Special Nephew

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fic, so be kind ;-;

It was a common occurrence for Donald Duck to wake up with a headache. He used to get them before particularly dangerous adventures back when he was still traveling with Della and Scrooge. Then, after he took in the triplets, they became a daily annoyance caused by the stress of raising three rambunctious ducklings while single, unemployed, and living on a houseboat. The aches multiplied by tenfold once his boys started galavanting around the world with their great uncle doing who-knows-what to find ancient, heavily guarded, and most likely cursed treasures. Yes, Donald was accustomed to the dull persistent pain that greeted him in the mornings.

No headache he'd ever had before could compare, though, to the skull-splitting agony that he was experiencing now.

“Ugh,” he rasped, raising a feathered hand to touch his forehead. He instantly regretted it, hissing in pain as his head throbbed in protest. His back was stiff and sore from sleeping on his lumpy old mattress, and his stomach lurched in time with the gentle rocking of the boat on the waves. I have to get the boys up, or they'll be late for school, he thought groggily. After a moment, Donald remembered that school was out for the summer, and that he hadn't slept in the houseboat for a little over a week- Mrs. Beakley insisted he move into the mansion after he'd nearly drowned himself during a particularly vivid flashback, and he had grudgingly agreed. What was happening?

He forced his eyes open to find out. The bright fluorescent lights were like daggers digging into his brain, but he was able to see clearly enough after he adjusted to his surroundings. A spike of anxiety flared in his chest. The place he was in was completely foreign to him, and looked more like a prison cell than a bedroom. The walls were painted a plain and faded grey; the room was barren save for the cot in which he was laying. On the opposite wall there was a large metal door with a thin slot at the bottom and no visible doorknob. A feeling of dread settled deep in his gut. _Oh, this couldn't be good._

As if on cue, the door to what he assumed was his cell swung open with a grinding screech. Donald braced himself for Glomgold, or the Beagle Boys, or even Magica de Spell- even though she hadn't turned up for several years now,he was still wary of the crafty sorceress- but he was greeted by none of these. Instead, an unfamiliar swan in a posh white suit strolled calmly through the entrance with an eerily impassive expression. Donald raised his eyebrows. “Who are you?” he asked. He'd been fairly certain he knew all of his uncle’s sworn enemies, but then again it was just like the old duck to rub someone the wrong way on a daily basis. Maybe this guy was just new.

He didn't expect the current of electricity that suddenly began coursing through his body; he hadn't even noticed that he'd been wearing a shock collar. Donald let out a garbled cry as his vision turned white and his limbs seized up. When it was finally over, he was left panting with his eyes squeezed shut and his feathers in disarray. He gathered his senses and gasped, “What was that for?” His only answer was more blinding pain.

“Don't speak unless spoken to,” the swan said once the spasms died down. “You belong to me until you are purchased, and you will follow my rules.”

 _Purchased?_ Donald wanted to ask, but stayed silent and warily rubbed his neck where the collar had begun to chafe. The swan continued, “Since this is your first day in my presence, I will allow you to ask a single question.”

“Who are you trying to sell me to?”

“Your uncle.”

Donald chuckled humorlessly. “You're quacking up the wrong tree. Scrooge wouldn't pay a dime for me; we haven't been on good terms for a little over a decade.” The swan remained unperturbed.

“If that is the case, then I could try my luck with his other nephews. He's fond of them, is he not?” Donald saw red.

“You leave them out of this, you sleazy- ACK!” With a simple press of a button, the collar was activated again and the duck writhed on the floor. The swan tutted as he pulled out a suspiciously familiar cellphone.

“Please be quiet, pet, I have a rather important phone call to make.”

~LineBreak~Woooooh~

When his phone began to ring, Scrooge wasn't surprised to see his nephew’s name on the screen. He'd taken the boys out on an adventure without permission again, and it had only been a matter of time before their surrogate father found out. Still, he wasn't at all looking forward to this conversation.

“Donald, I'm far too busy right now for one of your little tantrums, but I can pencil you in after lunch if you insist on interrupting my schedule,” the wealthy businessduck snapped. He was about to hang up when a silky smooth voice replied,

“If now isn't a good time, I would be happy to postpone our meeting, Mr. McDuck.”

Scrooge froze. “What meeting? Who is this?”

“I’m just a bird with a proposition; that is, if you want to hear it.”

“How did you get this phone?”

“I think you'll find I have a little more than just your nephew’s phone, dear Scrooge.”

He blanched, his grip on his cane tightening until his knuckles turned white. _Feathery heavens, he couldn't mean…!_  One would think that, he being the richest duck in the world, he would be used to situations like this, but the terror never lessened no matter how often one of his loved ones was held for ransom. That was one of the reasons he didn't make any particular effort to make friends. His temper flared, but an icy fear prevented him from lashing out. If Donald’s life truly was at stake, he couldn't afford to antagonize whoever was holding him captive. “What do you want?”

“Five obsquatumatillion in gold.”

“What?! That's ridiculous,” spluttered Scrooge. “Besides, how do I know you're not just pulling my tail?”

Suddenly, pained squawking could be heard over the line, the sound of which made Scrooge nauseous. He could recognize that unique voice anywhere.

“Proof enough for you, Mr. McDuck? I should think so. Anyway, whenever you decide to contact me, you know what number to use. I suggest you hurry, though. Every hour you wait, it will just get worse for our mutual friend. I'll be waiting.” The line went dead.

As soon as the call ended, it was as if the energy was drained out of Scrooge. He leaned against the nearest wall, his knees weak and his hands trembling. His family was supposed to be safe. Donald was supposed to be safe!

Where had things gone so wrong?

~LineBreak~Woooooh~

_“Donald, Della, this is your Uncle Scrooge,” said Matilda as she gently guided her niece and nephew forward. The usually rambunctious children were quiet and nervous, but it was understandable- they hadn’t even been able to change out of the clothes they'd worn to their parents' funeral._

_The old miser looked down at the ducklings with what was supposed to be a smile, but in reality was more like a grimace. He still wasn’t sure why he had been given custody over the recently orphaned twins. Surely, there had to be a better option._

_For now, though, they would be his family._

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, PLEASE comment!! I would absolutely love to receive constructive criticism, and plus it motivates me to keep going!


End file.
